Atharen, A Fantasy Roleplay Forum

The road had been more pleasant for Jack's presence. The wolf returned and at least didn't growl at him, so that was a positive sign, he thought. At first, he had been amusing, though Midhir had startled at the levitating fish trick. The wolf seemed to appreciate it, though.

"If you can catch fish like that," he said, "I have a way to cook them without fire, so we ought never to starve while near water."

But Jack seemed to grow moodier as they went. At first, he thought perhaps he was imagining it, or expecting the things he had been warned about and not seeing truth. After all, he had only met Jack some hours past and couldn't say that he knew him or how his moods moved, but eventually, he was fairly sure that either his little madness was creeping up on him or he really needed a meal and a nap. So Midhir was happy to speak when spoken to and otherwise walk in companionable silence. The wolf wandered off when they approached Liore. He didn't know if wolves could be irritated in the same way people could, but it certainly seemed to glance askance at him for two human settlements in one day. Then it padded off.

Little did any of them know that Halamire halberds would cross to bar their way forward.

"Wow," he said when he saw the statue of the wheelbarrow, laughing until the guards stopped them. Even Jack's quick lie didn't get them past them. His hand came up to Jack's arm not to restrain him, but to beg leave to talk. He only had a question that might make this work out for all of them.

"Is there a place we can quarantine until you're certain we aren't ill? Lucano looked suspicious so we were hoping to resupply here. We don't want trouble, just an idea of our options beyond moving or dying." He smiled; he couldn't blame them for keeping people out if pestilence was afoot, but surely they could offer some reasonable information so they could make a reasonably well-informed choice.

It was worth a shot, but Midhir's shot had missed. When Jack had him by the shoulders and was leading him away, he could only nod approval of the plan.

"I don't have a better idea," he admitted. "I'm not Entente."

That might have sounded sharp from someone else, but it was merely a fact. He didn't expect Jack to have shared his entire history with him in the past few hours, nor did he rightly know what the Halamire had been going on about.

"But why did he call you a prostitute? You said you weren't a prostitute. Anyway, we should try your plan, but if worse comes to worst, we can find a spot near the river to camp and just... move on to the next town tomorrow." But he hoped the plan worked. A bed would be nice, and sleeping in the same room as someone else might help him sleep better. If winter came before they reached Amoren, it would also be more comfortable sharing a bed, but he didn't know how that worked with friends. Sometimes the other novices had done so when the dormitory was bone cold on winter nights, but they had been boys and girls, and Jack was a man grown.

Midhir was a man grown as well. He supposed there was quite a bit to learn; thankfully, Jack seemed to know a great deal about how the world worked outside the monastery.

"What's the next town to the west, though? In case they ask me where we came from."

When Jack kept his arm slung about his shoulders, it felt only normal to slide his around his middle so they could match their gait around the town.

From Lucano to Liore to what lay beyond, he didn't know how many towns they would pass until they reached Amoren. Now, he was fairly certain he would go to Amoren with Jack. After all, traveling would be better with a friend and at least Jack had a destination in mind.

"Are you... all right? If things get bad, I can set up my tent and you can just rest. Between the wolf and me, we can keep you safe."

Jack was from Levarin—another tidbit of trivia to add to the kaleidoscope of little facts he knew about the man. He would have to be from a bit farther on and you've never heard of it, which were true in a roundabout sort of way. He didn't like lying, but there were no strictures against lying, except to a monk. It was just that deception could become a habit and a difficult one to break. He wondered if Jack lied a lot; he seemed to be telling the truth, but Midhir wasn't the best judge of people.

As for who was worrying about whom, he gently protested, "You may be my first real friend, Jack, but I know it goes both ways."

But he left it at that, not wanting to pester the man about an illness that was likely to make him feel out of control of himself, a state nobody enjoyed. There might be shame there, and Midhir didn't know how to communicate that he needn't feel shame in front of him. Perhaps they would figure it out together. But he didn't let go, so Midhir didn't either, and it was nice. He hoped that if one or the other of them felt overwhelmed, the other would be there to pick up the slack.

If either of them worried, the flimsy ruse proved sufficient to pass by the Halamire guards on the western gate. When they were in and Jack indicated a tavern, Midhir gave his flank a slight squeeze of acknowledgment and walked on with him. When they were out of earshot of the guards, he spoke up a bit.

"I don't mean to cast aspersions upon your plan—it worked—but I'm surprised it was as easy as that. I suppose you weren't wrong about them being low-grade, uneducated assholes."

At the door, he gave the sign a hard look.

"The Rooster and the Cat? There must be a story there."

He pulled the door open for Jack and felt a pang that they mightn't stay so close inside.

"After you."

The insides of the Rooster and Cat were warmer than home, everything made of woods stained different colors. Parts of the monastery were ancient, though he didn't think the Kullu lineage was as old as all that. So there was stonework, marble, even, and some woodwork, though that was often newer. He wasn't an architect, but he had eyes and he could see how some things had been built as one and others had been added on later. In any case, he wasn't judging; just observing. The place didn't seem half bad, though he still wasn't certain why Jack had given him a look when he questioned the name of the place. He would figure it out later or not, so he let it go.

He did have questions, and almost interrupted when Jack was speaking to the innkeeper, but he thought better of it and kept it all to himself. It seemed better to let Jack do the talking and learn from observation.

"Two-oh-three," he repeated. "Thank you."

Then, no sooner was the bill paid, but Jack had him by the hand and led him upstairs. His eyes widened curiously at Jack's nervous look before he let them into the room.

"Blasphemy!" he exclaimed, though he exclaimed quietly once the door was shut behind them. He assumed it was, though; he didn't know. Perhaps there was some part of Ulen's mythos that could be called a scorched arse, or perhaps it was just Jack's colorful language.

"Thank you," he said, and started to unsling his pack from his shoulders, looking for an out-of-the-way corner to stow it, though he waited for Jack to claim his bed since he had paid. He didn't know the etiquette of such things, but that seemed rational. "I can pay for our room in San Valencia or wherever we stop next."

Midhir would have been all right with eating downstairs, but if weariness made Jack's illness worse, he would rather eat in their room and keep an eye on him. He didn't know what he could do for him, but he could try to comfort him if it all became too much.

"Where do you want me to sleep?" he asked, polite more than diffident. Perhaps, if Jack knocked out quickly, he would see if there weren't laundry services or the like, assuming Jack didn't fall asleep with the key gripped in his hot little hand.

Midhir nodded, pleased that he would be able to contribute to their partnership when they came to the next inn. Then he wouldn't feel as though he was taking advantage of Jack's kindness and his purse. Compassion was a good thing, and allowing people to show compassion was also a good thing, but anything taken out of balance could become a bad thing, and that was best to avoid.

When Jack claimed one of the trunks, he effectively claimed one of the beds, which answered Midhir's question better. He was giving him a funny look, though, and Midhir wondered if there was a better way he might have phrased his question. But just as he was about to move his pack to the bed allotted to him so he could pull out his few belongings and assess them, Jack changed his mind. The elf considered; the beds were big enough for the both of them, and they seemed to be of a height and of a build. Perhaps they ought to have discussed these logistics before they made the deal with the innkeeper, though, because they could have saved money if they were going to share a bed.

Perhaps Jack was scared, though—not of Midhir, but of his creeping malady. Perhaps Jack would take comfort in the closeness of another person, same as young novices did during a severe thunderstorm.

"That would be all right," he agreed with a smile. It would be new, as well. He was aware that Jack was a handsome man, but it had been established that neither of them was a putain. But it had been a long day of hiking with packs on their back, so it seemed more likely that Jack just wanted someone to keep his bed warm and for the comfort sharing could bring. And that was good.

His smile faded into a generally amiable mien as he did start pulling things out of his pack.